


Solace Under Moonlight

by kymchi



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Letting out feelings, Other, Platonic Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24561826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kymchi/pseuds/kymchi
Summary: After the events of the killing game, Harukawa Maki feels conflicted one night and seeks out a way to find some comfort for herself. Saihara, noticing her absence, decides to join her. However, he does not decide to do this before bringing a special item that he knows would help her. Unexpectedly, the two realize that they need each other more than they had thought.
Relationships: Harukawa Maki & Saihara Shuichi, Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito, Momota Kaito/Saihara Shuichi (Implied)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Solace Under Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> I had originally posted this, but quickly deleted it before rewriting it completely, as I was not satisfied with the original result.  
> I have thought about this situation for forever, and it still gives me a lot of feelings. These two need some bonding that does not include traumatic events :(  
> Hope you enjoy!

Harukawa couldn't sleep. 

Her futon was constricting her, and she felt as if she couldn't breathe. She rolled over once again to check the time on her phone. 11:20. Yumeno had advised her to go to bed earlier, and fed up with her own sleep schedule, Harukawa eventually decided to follow through with it. 

It seemed as if that wasn't working. 

Flipping onto her back, she stared up at the wooden ceiling. The house creaked, and after this many months, she still felt mildly creeped out by it. She knew the others secretly felt the same though. However, the house was better than whatever housing "Team Danganronpa" offered, as it was secluded in a small forest area, away from the public. Although it was extremely run down, she, Yumeno, and Saihara were doing their best to make it more comfortable for the three of them. 

She groaned, knowing that she wouldn't rest much tonight. 

Tightness squeezed her chest again, and she quickly stifled the feeling. She knew she needed time to grieve, she knew that. But she was tired. Tired of still feeling this way. Tired of facing these same emotions again and again. 

When she found either Yumeno or Saihara in the midst of an episode, she ignored it. Of course, she did all that she could in order to comfort them, but she ignored her rising feelings to grieve with them. She hated feeling as if she should be brought down by these feelings. She wanted to remain distant at all times.

Secretly, she knew that it wasn't working. 

Convincing herself to get out of her futon, her joints cracked as she slowly got up from under the covers. The wooden floor was cold, and she softly made her way outside, cringing when the front door creaked loudly. Saihara was a light sleeper; he was bound to have heard that. 

When she stepped outside though, all of her cares were swept away. 

It was a cool night, and the grass beneath her feet swayed to the breeze.

She took a deep breath, and made her way to the nearby lake. She often came to this spot whenever she felt conflicted. The sound of the gentle waves lapping at the shore always calmed her down.

She balanced her way across the rickety, small dock, and sat down, dangling her legs off of the edge.

The water was warm compared to the air, and it tickled her ankles. 

She looked down onto the surface of the water, and stared into her reflection. Her appearance has changed a lot since the killing game: Her hair was cut to her shoulders, no longer sporting her signature scrunchies and hairpin. Ironically, it seemed as if her face had softened, despite her lifetime of hard experiences. However, her scars were still there, reminding her of what she has went through.

Looking up, she found that the sky was completely clear, and it almost seemed as if every star was out tonight. The moon was even full, casting its light onto the water.

'Hey, hey... don't cry. Can't you send me off with one last smile?'

Sadness bubbled up inside of her. Looking at the scene around her made her feel so small, but somehow, she could almost feel her beloved looking down on her. 

Letting out a deep sigh, Harukawa stared up at the stars; letting her frustrations flow out of her. Despite the effort, Harukawa attempted a smile.

See, Momota? I'm smiling for you. 

It didn't matter if he may had just been a character. It didn't matter if his existence was a lie. Momota had saved her; brought her into light.

So why was she crying?

Hot tears quickly spilled onto her face, and she hastily wiped at them, glaring into the water. 

Maybe it was the mixture of feelings that bubbled up inside her chest. All of the sadness and anger concocting into one. However, the feeling of bitter-sweetness was prevalent, as it sent even more warm tears down her cheeks. If she was younger, Harukawa would've been punished for crying so openly. Lashed out against, beaten into shape.

Ah, but they didn't even exist, did they?

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.

Harukawa felt the chilly air seep into her body; felt the moon's light shine on her with malice. She brought her knees up to her chest, and brought her head down to rest on them. Her chest was racked with the foretelling tightness of further sobs. And she fought hard to breathe deeply.

Why did he have to go? 

...

Why did she have to live?

________

Something was wrong.

Saihara slowly sat up in his futon, the covers settling in his lap. He then wiped his eyes and hastily searched for his phone. 11:30. He had heard the sound of the front door closing, and he immediately knew who it was. 

He pursed his lips together and sighed. Harukawa has been looking off lately, and he knew that eventually something would occur with her. 

She was most likely at the lake. Should he risk disturbing her?

The wind picked up suddenly, sending out a howl that shook both Saihara and the house. She couldn't possibly be at the lake at this hour?

Glancing behind him, Saihara stared at the corner of his room in thought, then determinedly headed over and pulled out a box covered in dust. Wiping it away, Saihara took the lid off with shaky hands. Pulling out a piece of clothing that he hadn't touched in months, he felt a pang suddenly hit his chest. He felt the fabric that was close to his chest, observing it for any damage done. 

Perhaps this would help her. 

Making sure that Yumeno was still asleep in her room, Saihara slipped on his shoes and made his way to the lake.

The wind had calmed down, sweeping past his hair and lightly chilling him. 

He saw a small figure in the distance, and immediately headed towards it. Sure enough, Harukawa was perched on the small dock, curled up in herself. 

Saihara stood still once he got closer. He felt as if he was intruding in on an intimate scene. He inhaled the chilly night air, admiring the still, peaceful night. With newfound confidence, Saihara stepped toward Harukawa.

"I figured you'd come out here eventually," Harukawa's voice made him freeze up. "You always know when to come at the wrong time."

"I'm sorry," Saihara meekly responded.

Harukawa faced towards him, a wry smile on her face. "I was kidding."

He swallowed. "Do you mind if I keep you company?"

She looked down, and turned back to the shore. "Sure, whatever."

Saihara cautiously walked his way across the dock, and gingerly sat down next to her, staring into the water.

He was about to say something, but Harukawa stopped him when she looked over with widened eyes. "Is that-"

Suddenly noticing the garment laying in his arms, Saihara mumbled, "Oh, ah, yeah."

"So, you decided to keep it."

Saihara held the jacket tighter, staring distantly into the starry pattern. Before Momota departed, he handed the jacket over to Saihara, saying it was a memento for his sidekicks. Saihara had kept the garment safe this whole time, storing it where nothing could hurt it. 

An awkward pause remained stagnant between the two of them. They both looked down into the water that was illuminated by the moonlight. A chilly breeze swept by, making Harukawa shiver. 

Wordlessly, Saihara handed Momota's jacket to Harukawa. She looked at it out of the corner of her eyes, silently debating if it was worth wearing it. 

Coming to a final decision, she took the jacket and slipped it over herself. Immediately, a wave of comfort ebbed into her. She felt as if she may start crying again. Trying to keep her thoughts off of it, Harukawa tried to focus on the jacket itself.

The jacket was worn, and it fit far too big on her. It quickly enveloped her, and the sleeves spilled past her hands. She help the lapels to her face, breathing in deeply. she could still smell the faint scent of Momota on it, and the ghost of a smile lifted her lips.

But it also disgusted her, noticing the faint scent of blood of it. And suddenly she was transported back into that night in the hangar. 

There was blood, everywhere. On clothes, on skin.

On metal.

Harukawa felt the dam break. The tears fell freely now, and she couldn't hold in her sobs. Her tears clouded her vision, and all she could see were the bright lights of the stars. 

She felt exhausted. She was tired of holding these feelings in. Harukawa sobbed harder, letting herself fall onto Saihara. She nuzzled into his chest and into the jacket, needing the contact now more than ever.

Saihara hadn't been expecting this reaction; his eyes widened as he saw one of the most stoic people he had ever known give into him. Even though he felt embarrassed, he lifted his arms to wrap around Harukawa, acting as her source of comfort. 

Suddenly, as he felt her grip his shirt and tears dropped onto his back, the weight of the situation came crashing onto him, and he felt stinging tears pinprick his eyelids. Soon enough, he began to weep as well. Sniffling, he allowed himself to unseal his jar of emotions as he held onto Harukawa. He missed Momota dearly. He wanted to feel his touches again, to see his smiles, to feel protected. He choked on his sobs as he wished so deeply to see their hero return.

And so they sat there, crying as the night went on, feeling the shine of the night sky seep into them.

________

Saihara didn't know how long they had been weeping. They both grew so tired until they fell asleep on the dock, wrapped in Momota's jacket.

But, Saihara noted as he gazed at Harukawa's sleeping form, they both needed this. 

Her face was devoid of the usual, tense complexion. In place of it was a look of peace. Her eyebrows were without their usual furrow, and her lips were slightly parted instead of pursed tightly. As Saihara observed the scene, he quickly took notice of the dried marks of fallen tears on her face, and lifted his fingers to his own eyes, wiping away any excess wetness. 

The air was cool, with the stars still looming, or perhaps looking, over them. The sky was a bit paler, and he could hear cheerful birdsong from a distance. But as Saihara looked back to Harukawa, he couldn't help but feel bitter-sweetness wash over him. He felt sympathy and pain, but there was also a feeling of love. Of relief. He drew a deep breath and exhaled before laying himself back down onto the jacket, feeling sleepiness tug at his eyelids. As he stared up at the night sky and drew in the faint scent of the jacket and Harukawa, he felt safe. 

The two remained on the dock, finding solace in the other's comforting presence under the moonlight.


End file.
